Page 15 of Once Upon a Thanksgiving
“I love you,” she whispers fiercely. “I tried not to, but I do.”
“I’ll always come for you,” I vow, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. “Always.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Yes. Take me home and don’t ever let go.”
I kiss her again, my fingers threading through her hair. She clings to me like she’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping her afloat. We stumble inside, kicking the door shut, the world shrinking to this apartment and the electricity humming between our bodies.
We break apart, breathless, forehead to forehead. “Say it again,” she pleads, voice trembling.
“I love you,” I whisper, peppering her cheeks, nose, eyelids with kisses. “I love you, Autumn. God, I love you.”
She pushes my coat off my shoulders, fingers scrambling for my shirt, tugging it up and over my head. My hands are everywhere—her waist, her back, under her hoodie, skin hot and soft beneath my palms.
She gasps as I press her against the wall, my lips tracing her jaw, her neck, the place that makes her shiver. I slip my hands under her hoodie, up over her ribs, palming her breasts through the thin tank top. Her nipples pebble instantly, and I roll them between my fingers, loving the way she arches against me, desperate for more.
“Jack, please,” she moans, her voice wrecked. “Touch me. I need you.”
I yank her hoodie over her head and toss it aside, then slide her tank top up, exposing her to the cool air and my greedy hands. I bend, sucking one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip, nipping and licking until she’s shaking.
She claws at my belt, yanking my jeans open, pushing her hand down to stroke me through my boxers. I groan, hips jerking, the ache of missing her slamming into me all at once.
“Bed,” she pants, tugging at my hand. “Now.”
We half-run, half-stumble to her bedroom, kissing and laughing and shedding clothes as we go—her pants, my jeans, her panties, my boxers. When we’re finally skin to skin, I slow down, letting myself look at her. She’s beautiful, flushed, eyes dark with hunger, lips parted as she tries to catch her breath.
“I missed you,” I murmur, sinking to my knees, hands gripping her hips. I kiss a path up her thigh, licking and nipping, teasing her with my mouth until she’s whimpering, her hands buried in my hair.
I spread her legs and taste her, slow at first, then faster, circling her clit with my tongue, dipping inside her with my fingers, licking her until she’s thrashing, pleading, coming hard with my name on her lips. She pulls me up, dragging me into a kiss, tasting herself on my tongue, grinding against me.
I flip her gently, pinning her wrists above her head, staring down at her, our eyes locked. “I need you. I need to be inside you. I need to make you mine.”
She nods, wild and breathless. “Do it. Now.”
I line up, sliding inside her inch by inch, groaning at the heat, the slick welcome of her body gripping me. We move together, finding the rhythm that’s uniquely ours.
“I love you,” she whispers over and over, voice breaking on every thrust.
“I love you,” I groan, mouth on her neck, her breast, her lips.
She shatters around me, moaning my name, and I follow, letting go completely, pouring every fear and hope and longing into her.
Afterward, we lie tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, her head on my chest, my fingers stroking her spine. I kiss her hair, her cheek, her temple.
We hold each other, letting the world fall away, every inch of distance between us finally gone.
Chapter thirteen
Autumn
When Jack and I pull onto the gravel drive the next morning, Harvest Hollow is bathed in the kind of soft winter morning light that makes everything shimmer. I grip his hand tighter across the console, still half-afraid I’m dreaming. My cheeks hurt from smiling.
As soon as we get out, the house erupts. Mia races down the porch steps, shrieking. “She’s back! I knew it!”
Connor pops his head out, still in pajamas, grinning. Dad appears behind him, and Mom nearly barrels them both over as she runs toward me, arms wide.
I’m surrounded—squeezed, kissed, peppered with questions. Jack stands back, sheepish and flushed, until Mom pulls himinto the hug too. “You'd better be ready for more cocoa shifts, Jack!” she laughs, but her eyes are misty.
Mia grabs my hand, spinning me around. “Well? Tell them! Tell them!”
